


On Air

by Accal1a



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Gen, Hostage Situations, Minor Violence, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: Gunderson visits the Station and threatens both Sammy and Ben. When he goes directly for Sammy, Ben intervenes.





	On Air

**Author's Note:**

> Written partially for my friend who had real trouble with the content of the reason Ben attacked Gunderson, and partially because I wanted to write some hurt/comfort.
> 
> As usual, the characters ran off on their own and did their own thing. I don't know why I even try and have a plan anymore. 
> 
> ~~~ 
> 
> _Some of the dialogue in this is lifted directly from the episode (so if it sounds familiar, that's why). All kudos to the guys at KFAM for the amazing scripts they keep writing._
> 
> ~~~ 
> 
> Kudos to the awesome [neversaydie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie) who dealt with both my "Argh! I want this done before the episode!" rants as well as me sending them squeeing paragraphs when I wrote bits I loved. 
> 
> ~~~ 
> 
> **Written for the KFAM Angst War.**

Sammy knew what kind of night it was going to be as soon as Herschel cursed them with 'have a quiet night for once', but in his wildest dreams he couldn't have imagined what actually happened. He supposed at some point he was going to have to stop being surprised by this damn town, but tonight was apparently not the night for it.

They had been doing so well, for such a long time...and then Tim 2015, Tim A, Tim 1, The Good Tim, who the hell knew anymore, called in to the show and things had rapidly gone downhill from there. 

Sammy loved that him and Ben had now been friends for long enough that non-verbal conversations could be had with very little difficulty on either of their parts. So, when he'd suggested he had Troy's address in his car and was going to go and get it, Ben had run with the ruse with no confusion whatsoever. It wouldn't have worked on a human, or at least he hoped not, maybe the human race really had got to that point, but it worked on Tim 2015, Tim A, Tim...no, he wasn't doing this again. It had worked on Robot Tim, and that was all that mattered.

Running into Gunderson in the parking lot was not what he had expected. He had a fleeting hysterical thought that perhaps Timbot had deliberately fallen for his trick and had somehow organised Gunderson standing outside, waiting to be let in. He shook his head at the thought and it retreated back into the corner of his mind that held such ridiculous things. It was the same corner of his mind that kept all of his hairstyles and clothing choices from college that he didn't like to think about anymore.

“Gunderson.” Sammy said, with as much derision as he could manage. He hated this guy, and he didn't care if he knew about it.

“Mr. Stevens,” the sheriff replied, sounding just as disgusted, “good timing. You saved me having to knock.”

Sammy didn't have a chance to say anything more before Gunderson had pushed past him. All Sammy could do then was move to catch up. Attempting to get past him down the narrow corridors of the station was impossible, so he just followed where the man led him. He thought he knew where he was going anyway, but he still secretly hoped that he wasn't going to have to pollute the airwaves with the Himinst's voice.

“Sammy, did you get a hold of...what the hell?” Ben finished, clearly just as confused as Sammy had been.

“How do, Benny boy? Your buddy Sam here let me in. I know we've all had our differences but I sure do appreciate your hospitality.” The Sheriff drawled in his characteristicly slow voice.

Both of the young hosts thought that on a kind man, the voice might have been soothing, but on this man it sounded sinister, whatever the man was saying.

“He was outside the door, Ben. I didn't get a chance to call Troy.” Sammy said, shrugging with a helpless gesture. 

Sammy hadn't even had the chance to get his phone out. He wished that he'd thought to just nip into their office to make the call instead; but he'd wanted the crisp mountain air to revive him from the weirdness on the phone lines. Now it just seemed like he'd invited a whole different sort of weirdness into the station.

“I don't want to be rude, Sam this being your 'house' if you will, at least for the next few weeks, but I'd appreciate if you didn't talk over me while I try to have a chat with your buddy Benny here.” The Sheriff said.

Ben couldn't help it, he rolled his eyes. “It's _Ben_ , and this is private property, Gunderson.”

“ _Sheriff_ Gunderson. And I've got all the reasons on God's green Earth to be right here in this very studio tonight.”

Ben doubted it, but he couldn't think of a way of getting the man out of the station without causing some level of upset and they were still live after all. No, better to let him say his piece and get him out of their hair as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for the information, Ben. It has not been as helpful as we had hoped. We will talk soon. Very soon. Be well, Ben.” Tim's voice sounded in the recording studio.

Sammy closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He didn't think he could deal with Timbot and Sheriff Gunderson at the same time, so he was glad that at least one part of the equation had been removed. 

“And who might that be on the telephone? Oh sorry, I must have lost all recollection of my manners, I would have gladly introduced myself if I'd known y'all were live on the air.”

Ben and Sammy shared a look. As if the man hadn't known they were on the air. They were clearly on the air. Who woke up at this ungodly hour if you _weren't_ on the air? Himinist Sheriffs, that was who apparently.

“Guessing you know exactly who was on the phone?”

Sammy hid a smile behind his hand. 'Medium rage' indeed.

“Son, you could have been a deputy in your own right, had you not gone into the perpetrating tall tales on the air waves business.” The sheriff continued, making both of the other two men to roll their eyes again.

Sammy crossed back to where his desk was, reaching for his headphones and putting them around his neck as he had many times before just before a show started. 

“Sheriff, if you could kindly get to your point or get out of our studio we'd _gladly_ appreciate it.” Sam said, not hiding his feelings at all.

Ben similarly hid a smirk behind his hand. He _loved_ it when Sammy's salt came out. Or, he loved it when it came out and it wasn't directed at him. When it was directed at him it was infuriating.

The Sheriff carefully closed the door and leant against it, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Ooo aren't you all kinds of uppity this evening, Shotgun? I guess that's to be expected though, I do hear your kind has a flair for the dramatic. But believe you me, you might want to holster that sass, have a seat and let this play out before this gets even worse for y'all.”

Sammy sat slowly, but kept his chair turned towards the Sheriff, not trusting him one bit. He was carefully appraising the man when what he'd said filtered through into his consciousness. Had he just said...

“My kind? You're a fucking asshole.”

Sammy had put up with a lot of homophobia throughout his life, a lot of it internalised, and growing up in the middle of nowhere hadn't helped; but now that he had been forced out of the closet, it no longer hurt in the same way. It wasn't the cutting deep in his soul that made him think 'yes, you might be right', it was now a fire within him that made him realise that he was valid and it was them that had the issue. Now, it just made him mad.

“My Lord, Such language! I'm surprised you boys haven't racked up enough FCC fines to pay down the national debt with these foul mouths of yours. I was obviously taking about you being a radio entertainer Sam I Am. Not your homosexual _proclivities_.”

Ben put his hands against his desk and made as if to stand. It was only Sammy's minute head shake which made him pause.

Sammy had seen a few dangerous men in his life, and he could see the situation for what it was. They were all being, mostly, polite but the situation was still on a knife edge. He wasn't sure what Gunderson's play was here, but he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him; and he didn't want to set him off. He certainly didn't want _Ben_ in any danger.

“I stand by it.” Sammy said, because despite that, he wasn't going to let the man get away with that kind of comment.

“Benjamin, how about you take us to a commercial, so we can have a nice, little chat.” Gunderson said.

Sammy immediately interjected at that. He wanted a record of what was going on in here. Police interrogation tapes could get lost, but this was going out live with hopefully many people listening to it. Witnesses. “Don't touch that boa...”

Ben cut across Sammy, shooting him a smile as he did so, gratified that he was being looked after, but knowing he could fight this battle on his own. 

“We've had our last break of the evening, Gunderson. But you're here live in our studio, making yourself at home, insulting my best friend. So, why don't you take a seat, let's hammer out whatever bullshit you're in the middle of pulling.”

Sammy was proud of his best friend, but still conscious of the fact that Gunderson was leaning against their only escape. He didn't know what the man was going to do. Maybe it would be nothing, but he didn't want to test that theory.

“Y'all do know how to make a body feel welcome, I'll give you that. If you're wanting to talk live on the air, well we can talk live on the air. I ain't got nothing to hide unlike some of us in the room. _Closet full of secrets_.”

“Get to your point.” Ben said, sounding tired and frustrated.

Sammy knew exactly how he felt. He didn't even rise to _another_ homophobic jab. Gunderson wasn't worth his time.

“Straight shooting, and to the point, I like it. I reckon I do have a tendency to carry on a bit and try to make people feel at ease. But let's just get right down to it. There's been a break in, this very evening, at the science institute. I'm thinking you already know that.”

“I don't know why you'd think I know about it, other than some freak calling us up from the institute trying to get information we don't have.” Ben hedged. There was a plan to break into the Science Institute but it wasn't supposed to be tonight and it _certainly_ didn't have anything to do with Tim A.

Sammy finally lost his cool. The man sounded like he was going for entrapment and he couldn't have that. “Do you have a warrant? Do you have any...”

“I asked you once nicely, now I'm telling you to shut your filthy _goddamn mouth_.” Gunderson said, his eyes flashing with his barely concealed rage. He turned back towards the other host. “As you were saying Benjamin.”

Ben swallowed, looking at Sammy out of the corner of his eyes. His friend was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, not slouching like he normally did. He was starting to get concerned, especially as Gunderson had yet to explain why he was there and he was still blocking the door.

“As I was saying, I said a freak called form there trying to get info we don't have.” Ben was furious that his voice sounded like it was wavering, but he couldn't stop it. The fact of the matter was he was worried.

Gunderson seemed to be working up to something, so Ben waited for the next accusation. “Hmm, I reckon that's because you have nothing to do with that particular break in.”

“Any particular break in.” Ben emphasised.

“Right, right, of course not. You see, you running in certain circles would lead me to believe otherwise though. That mall cop that you boys like to cosy up with for one, Tim Jensen? Who we apprehended red handed tonight, up yonder at the Science Institute, being another.”

“You arrested the actual Tim Jensen?” Ben said, shocked.

“Oh, sorry to break that news live over the radio Mary, if you're listening to this tomfoolery you have my utmost apologies.” The sheriff said, sounding anything but sorry.

“What in the world was Tim Jensen doi...” Sammy started, but was rudely cut off.

Gunderson pushed off from the door, coming to stand over the desk that Sammy was sitting at.

“Son, you're making me feel mighty jumpy. And I don't like to feel jumpy because I might just get worried and LASH OUT!” He slammed his hand down on the desk, making the pen pot jump. “How about you stand down from that microphone and let me and your tiny friend have this chat.”

 _Not a chance_. There was no way in hell he was going to leave his best friend in a room with this man, not when he was clearly partially unhinged.

“I think you're going to need to just snap some cuffs on me and haul my ass out of here then because I'm fucking done with your threats and your put on cowboy act!” Sammy said, turning his chair so he could face the threat, making himself the target, pulling focus away from Ben. 

Sammy moved to stand up from the chair but was cut off by the rest of Gunderson's remarks.

Ben could feel the tension in the room ramping up but he had no idea how to soothe the situation.

“Look at the balls on you, boy. Must come in pretty handy in your line of...activities. Stay at your microphone, Shotgun. You've only got a few more weeks of that anyway, thank the Lord. Plus, you'll need to carry on with this broadcast all by your lonesome after I arrest your partner, Ben.”

“WHAT?” Ben and Sammy said in confused and indignant unison.

“Shall we, Ben? We can do this like gentleman. Or, if you'd like some shiny wrist wear I'd be happy to oblige.” Gunderson said, rattling the handcuffs that he had pulled from his belt.

Sammy was about to say something, but once again his friend, who was now a much braver individual than he had been when Sammy originally met him once more stood up to the bully in front of them.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

Sammy watched as Gunderson turned towards Ben and he knew that he had to pull focus again.

“What are the charges? Ben has been here all night, _every damn night_!”

Gunderson didn't respond, merely walked towards one of the walls of tapes. It was archaic, the slats in the walls exactly the right width and height for a cassette tape. Every so often Sammy considered emailing Merv about it, but it was actually quite pretty in it's own way, so he never had. Added to which that would involve him opening his email, and he didn't care _that_ much.

“Fascinating,” The Sheriff said, tapping his finger against his cheek. He reached for one of the tapes and threw the cassette at Ben, then walked back over to the men who were still seated at their desks; but who had now turned both of their chairs to face him.

Sammy was judging the distance to the door, wanting to be out of this room _now_ , but he couldn't catch Ben's eye to get him on the same page. His friend had his eyes firmly trained on the officer. There was no way he was leaving the room without Ben, so he waited.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Ben asked, turning the tape over in his hands. It contained one of the many 'best of' tapes that he had made in the past year.

Gunderson gestured at the tape deck attached to the board.

Ben crossed his arms across his chest. They were still in the middle of a live broadcast, even if at the moment it was more dead air than actual broadcast. He wasn't going to throw on a 'best of' tape for no reason. Their listeners deserved better than that. He ignored the small voice in the back of his head, which sounded suspiciously like Sammy, who told him it was safer for them to be on the air.

The snap of the popper holding the sheriff's gun in his holster sounded very loud in the small room. The Sheriff didn't move to pull his gun or even do anything vaguely threatening, but the threat was implicit in his action.

“Ladies and Gentlemen we're going to finish our broadcast there this evening. Thanks for listening to 660 on the radio dial. Ben? Take it away.” Sammy finished lamely.

Ben flipped the switch on the board and the sounds of the newest 'best of' tape of the Sammy and Ben Show started to play in the studio.

Gunderson walked across the room to the board and turned down the gain so they couldn't hear the broadcast in the studio. Ben's brain spun off into various permeations of why Gunderson would know how to work a sound board. He thought that if they got out of this he'd ask Chet. Maybe Gunderson had been an intern at the station at some point.

You could hear a pin drop now no-one was broadcasting.

“Now, let's talk shall we?” Gunderson said, his voice soft.

“Sure, what would you like to talk about?” Sammy said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“ _Sammy_...” Ben warned. He didn't know what was going to happen, but Gunderson didn't come up here in the early morning hours for a pleasant chat.

“Yes, Mr. Stevens. I'd listen to your co-host here. The adults are talking.”

Sammy moved to stand. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, when he did get there. He just knew that he couldn't bear it if anything happened to Ben so he wanted to be the target.

“What do you _want_ , Gunderson?” Ben asked tiredly.

Sammy wanted to shout at him, tell him not to draw attention to himself, but Ben wouldn't be Ben if he wasn't standing up for his friends, and right now his friend was in danger. It was one of the things he loved about him.

“As I said, I want to talk to you about this break in, I think you know more than you're letting on and I'd like to have that little gentleman's chat. If you can keep your dog on his leash of course.”

Ben took several deep breaths before he answered, attempting not to say the first thing that came to mind, which was _fuck you_. “What do you want to know?”

“Word on the 'street' as you kids call it, is that you've been poking your nose in places it shouldn't be. I just want to allay any fears you might have, and hear what you have to say for yourself.”

“Ben's not some criminal mastermind, Gunderson. What's your angle?”

Gunderson walked over to where Sammy was sitting, placing his hands on the armrests of Sammy's chair, causing him to lean back as far as was able.

“I didn't ask for your _colourful_ input.” Gunderson said, sneering.

Sammy breathed through the anger that was coursing through him, fully aware that Gunderson's popper was still undone, and he could draw the gun at any moment. He knew that Ben was going to interject and he wished he could stop him from doing that, but there wasn't any way that he could do that without drawing attention to the fact that that was what he was doing.

“Yes, I've been asking around about the Science Institute.” Ben said tiredly. “It's a shady place, I think the town needs to know just what it's in bed with.”

Gunderson pushed off from Sammy's chair and walked back round to the side of the desk that Ben sat at. “Is that so?”

“ _Ben_...”

“It's okay, Sammy. It's not illegal to ask questions.” Ben said, and that would have been fine, except he then added, “and I'm sure that this officer of the _law_ here knows that. Nothing to arrest me for.”

“Maybe not yet.” Gunderson said, once more tapping his hand against his cheek, the other one resting casually on the butt of his gun.

Sammy could actually feel the blood rushing through his body in his ears. He wondered whether this was the way he died, whether he died in a dirty radio station in a small town he wished he'd never heard of. He wondered whether that would mean he'd get to see Jack.

Ben knew that there was a threat, but he had got really good at texting under the desk, without anyone noticing. It made texting Emily whilst they were doing the show easy, even if she mocked him mercilessly when he sent a string of garbled text or incorrect emojis. Okay, maybe he wasn't _that_ great at doing it, but this definitely seemed like an SOS situation.

Gunderson was wondering around the room, pacing like a caged lion. The other men tried very hard not to feel like prey. They didn't quite succeed.

Ben wasn't expecting a furious Gunderson to storm across the room, yank his chair out from behind the desk, rip his phone out of his hand and throw it against the wall, causing it to flicker and then die.

“That wasn't very polite now was it? Don't you know you shouldn't text while a conversation is being had? You kids these days have no manners.”

“We have no manners?” Sammy said, losing patience with the situation, “you barge in here, throw threats around, tell Ben he's going to be arrested without giving him any reason to actually be arrested and expect us to be gracious hosts? _Fuck you_.”

Gunderson smiled, which may have been the most terrifying thing of all the things he'd done since he'd arrived.

Faster than Ben thought the man could move, he crossed the space towards Sammy and pulled out his baton, striking him across the knee.

“What the _fuck_ , Gunderson?!” Ben shouted standing up and walking towards the man who had just attacked his friend with very little provocation.

Sammy's hand immediately went towards his knee, which was flaring up with pain. He sucked air between his teeth, refusing to show how much pain he was actually in. He'd dislocated his knee in college and this felt worse than that. He vaguely wondered whether his knee could actually have been broken by one strike.

“Language Mr. Arnold! If you didn't swear so much in your personal life, perhaps you wouldn't find it so difficult to keep the show clean. I know you're a late night show, but you have, and I will never understand how, a loyal listenership and y'all really have a duty of care to make sure that you...”

“ _Gunderson_. Did you have a point? What are you doing here?” Ben said, shooting a glance at Sammy, who was still holding his knee, grimacing in pain.

“I already said. Y'all should listen more. I'm here to arrest you.”

“Ben, don't you move. Gunderson hasn't said one damn reason why you'd be in a hint of trouble and if it's just a chat? Well, you can do it right here, where it's safe.” Sammy said, although he supposed that 'safe' was a relative term considering what had just happened.

“I'm an officer of the law, you can't get safer than that, son.”

Ben laughed. He thought it might have been a nervous reaction, but the thought that Gunderson was schooling himself as a safe person to be with was laughable.

“Find that funny, Benny?” Gunderson said, pulling his arm back and striking Sammy on the knee that he had only just stopped holding. 

Sammy did cry out then, and Ben heard it down to the very core of his being.

Ben almost leapt across the room, barrelling into Gunderson, actually pushing him slightly away from Sammy.

“Come here, you FUCK! Come here, you sick son of a fuck!” A curtain of rage had descended over Ben. His best friend was going through more than enough emotional pain to last a life time, he definitely didn't need the sheer weight of physical pain to go along with it, not if he could do something to stop it.

Sammy wanted to get up to help, but the moment he put weight on his left knee, it gave way and he fell back to his chair again. Impotently, he tried to stop Ben with words instead.

“Ben, Ben, Ben no!” Sammy finally saw what Gunderson's play was, what it probably always was. If one of them attacked him, he had absolutely every right to bring them in. This man was very smart. They'd underestimated him.

Ben was trying to wrestle the baton out of Sheriff Gunderson's hands, kicking out with his legs and pushing him as he tried to get the upper hand.

“Come on.” Gunderson taunted. 

Sammy heard the tone of his voice and he knew that it was over, Ben had probably done enough attacking, but Gunderson was trying to really put the nail in the coffin. 

Gunderson started trying to subdue Ben, but that just seemed to embolden him. Ben was furious now and nothing short of an arrest was going to stop him, Sammy realised sadly.

“Get off me...get the fuck off me!” Ben said, struggling against the strong Sheriff.

“Easy boy.” Sheriff Gunderson said, still trying to contain the man who was short but apparently had extra limbs. He was proving to be harder to subdue than he had expected.

Sammy hated feeling impotent, but he could do absolutely nothing to stop the fight. He tried to stand again with exactly the same result as last time, a leg that gave way and a sinking feeling knowing he couldn't help.

“Goddamn it don't hurt him, get off of him.” Sammy tried, not entirely sure which one of them he was talking to.

Gunderson finally got Ben on the floor, wrenching his arms behind his back and trying to ratchet the cuffs around his wrists.

Ben continued to struggle even as he realised it was fruitless. He had been well and truly backed into a corner. He knew though that if it happened again, he knew he would have made exactly the same choices. If there was a _chance_ that he would help Sammy, he would take that choice every single time.

“Get up.” Gunderson said, roughly pulling Ben to his feet. “See now, assaulting a police officer _is_ an arrestable offence where I come from boys. Guess we'll be doing this with the hardware after all. Have a nice night Sam, enjoy them while you can.”

“Get off me, Get the fuck...get your fucking hands off me.” Ben said, still struggling.

When Ben saw the stricken look on Sammy's face, he stopped struggling, stopped swearing and realised he needed to say something to alleviate the stress of the situation.

“Post my bail, Sammy.” Ben said, smiling softly.

Sammy smiled back at him, knowing that his friend had said it to try to cheer him up from the frankly horrific situation they'd just been through.

“Sure thing.”

Ben looked like he was going to keep struggling against Gunderson, but Sammy knew that he'd hurt himself if he did. There wasn't anything that could be done about it now. Ben had attacked an officer. Gunderson wasn't wrong about the fact it was an arrestable offence. It didn't matter that the sick fuck had baited him to it, this was the law and they just had to deal with it. 

“I'm okay, Ben. Go,” Sammy said kindly, “I'll see you at the station.”

Sammy _was_ okay. Sort of. He wasn't sure he could stand up right now, but he'd be able to by the time he needed to be down at the police station.

Gunderson almost lifted Ben away from Sammy then, manhandling him out of the doorway and down the corridor. Over his shoulder, he made a final comment to the room.

“Don't forget the sheriff station isn't open until 11am on a Thursday, Mr. Stevens. I wouldn't want you to turn up early and have to wait around.”

“You...”

“Good _morning_ , Mr. Stevens.” Gunderson said in that smarmy way he always managed to hit and which made Sammy want to punch him even on a good day.

Sammy listened to them both walking down the corridor, sighing softly when he heard the outside door slam shut. He didn't move until he heard the engine start and disappear from hearing. 

When he thought he could stand, he gingerly did so. He felt the pain in his knee, knew that it would need a damn fine bubble bath, a hell of a lot of ice and more Tylenol than he thought he currently had in his house, for it to get better; and even then he would have a hell of a bruise.

Sammy fished his phone out of his pocket, thanking an unspecified deity that Gunderson hadn't also thrown it against a wall. He could see Ben's phone lying in pieces on the other side of the room. He wanted to call someone, needed to reassure himself with a friendly voice but he couldn't get Ben's broken voice out of his head when he'd been hit with that stun baton. Sure, it had hurt, more than any other physical pain that he had had in his life, but it was hearing Ben's emotional pain that had nearly done him in. Sammy wanted to strangle Gunderson for that alone. Nobody should ever make his best friend sound like that. He had hoped he would never hear him sound like that after Emily had come back, but here they were, living in a town of Himinist freaks causing hurt in someone who had already had a lifetime of it. It definitely wasn't cosmically fair...but then again nothing was cosmically fair, his loss of Jack was proof of that too.

He flipped between Troy, Emily and Ron, not sure who he wanted to talk with, or indeed who he should talk with. Should he be calling Ben a lawyer? Would that be better? Emily would probably be Ben's one phone call, if he even got that, so he didn't want to tie up her phone line, but then he wasn't sure whether Gunderson would even let Ben have a phone call so maybe he should call her.

When his phone rang he nearly dropped it in surprise.

“What the hell is happening up there?” Ron said, his gruff voice coming loudly out of the phone when Sammy answered it.

“Ron.” Sammy breathed. He must have sounded relieved because Ron picked up on it immediately.

“I'll be up there in 20 mins. Don't leave.”

Sammy wanted to ask him where he thought he would go, considering they were still on the air, even if 'air' was currently a glorified mix-tape. Then he looked up and saw that clock had just ticked over into the 6 O'clock hour and he was now no longer on the clock. He numbly walked across to the tape deck and took out the 'Best of' that Ben had hastily crammed in there and took out a 'Morning tape' that the host of the six o'clock hour recorded yesterday. Sammy wasn't sure whether that host knew that it would be needed (in which case he needed to have an interesting conversation with them about Himinism) or whether it was just a happy accident. Either way, he was pleased. It meant he didn't see anyone until he heard the banging on the door outside.

Sammy assumed it was Ron, but didn't want to deal with anything else right now.

 _That you?_ He shot off quickly via text.

“Sammy!” Ron shouted through the door, and Sammy felt himself sag with relief. “Sammy! It's Ron!”

He hobbled over to the door and let him in, shooting a panicked look at the parking lot as he did so. He thought he'd managed to do it surreptitiously, but judging by the look on Ron's face he hadn't managed to do it surreptitiously enough.

“Sammy?” Ron asked, closing the door to the station.

Sammy felt his legs go out from under him and Ron caught him as he fell to the floor, his hands shaking.

“Sammy, what happened?” Ron asked. When his friend didn't immediately respond, he carried on. “Where's Ben? Is he okay?” 

Ron knew that if Sammy Stevens was on the floor in the corridor of the station and Ben wasn't by his side then something pretty damn big had gone down. There was no way that Ben would have let him go through this on his own.

“Sammy?” Ron asked gently. “Sammy, I'm going to get you up now, we're going to go and sit in your office, okay?”

Ron had definitely read somewhere that with victims of shock you had to keep repeating their name to keep the grounded, and Sammy was clearly in shock. His hands were shaken and he'd gone white as a sheet. He let himself be picked up though and he walked on his own two feet, even if he was limping and leaning heavily on Ron as he walked.

Ron looked into the studio when they passed the door but he couldn't see anything amiss. The desk was littered as usual with a multitude of paper and sticky notes. The mics and headphones were all in their right places...except he thought he saw Ben's phone on the floor, the screen cracked. Had the men had a fight? Was Ben hurt somewhere? Because Ron loved both of these men, but if Sammy had hurt his other friend he was going to have some choice words for him.

Sammy was definitely in shock. Ron had seen it before, when his Dad had had a particularly bad fishing accident and there was blood everywhere, his face had gone white as a sheet, other people doing the first aid for him, while he just stared off into the distance. Sammy had that look about him, he was letting himself be guided towards the only comfy chair in the tiny office that he shared with Ben and he still hadn't said a word. 

“Sammy?” Ron said carefully, settling himself on the floor. He very carefully patted his friend's leg. “Sammy, can you tell me what happened?”

Suddenly, Sammy completely tensed, and Ron worried he had done something wrong. It had been a while since he'd had to deal with this sort of thing, but he thought that he had been doing things right. Even so, he took his hand off Sammy's leg.

“We have to call Emily!” Sammy said and Ron shook his head as if the abrupt change in conversation could be explained away by the gesture.

Ron moved out of the way when Sammy stood up, but very quickly moved back into Sammy's space when his legs came out from beneath him again.

“We'll call Emily,” Ron said, still none the wiser as to why they needed to, “how about you sit down again first?”

“Okay, yes. Yes. I'll do that.” Sammy said, running his hands through his hair, messing it up.

Ron could tell that he still wasn't fully with it, that he was in some sort of in between phase where he needed Ron's help, apparently to stand; but apparently didn't need Ron's help for cognition.

Sammy bent his knee so that he could slide it underneath himself when he sat down, it was how he always sat, but he hissed in pain when his knee wouldn't bend properly. He couldn't for a moment work out why; but then everything came crowding back in all at once.

Ron had seen how the movement had pained his friend and was dying to ask the question, but didn't when he could see that slight glaze to Sammy's eyes again. He was about to lose him to whatever memories he was trying not to think about, and he needed more information before that happened.

“You said we needed to call Emily, Sammy. Is Ben okay?”

That had been the wrong thing to say.

Sammy made a noise that was half moan and half sob.

“Sammy, I know this is difficult, but I need you to tell me a little. I need to know if Ben's okay, and I need to know what to tell Emily when I call.”

“Ben's not okay.” Sammy said quietly.

“Okay,” Ron replied, “how so?”

Ron was pretty impressed that he was managing to rein in the multitude of questions he wanted to ask, not least the one at the top of this list which was: just where the hell was Ben? If Sammy was going through all of this alone, then something pretty damn bad must have happened.

“He...Gunderson.”

_Don't jump to conclusions. Don't jump to conclusions. Don't jump to conclusions._

“What happened with Gunderson?”

Sammy's demeanour changed for the third time in as many minutes, his hand clenching into a fist where it was resting beside his hip.

“He _arrested_ him.” Sammy said, the injustice of it all crowding out the feelings of horror and powerlessness he had been feeling either a second or an hour ago. He had no idea how much time had passed. He could only vaguely remember Ron coming in, but he was so glad that he was there.

“Wait. What for?”

Sammy laughed without much mirth and Ron started to worry he was going to lose him again, before Sammy continued.

When Sammy had finished explaining everything that had happened, Ron could feel his own temperature, (that had been temperate when he knew he needed to look after Sammy, but had then gradually risen until it was now to boiling at 'Frickard levels'), course through his body. He would actually have been unsurprised if cartoon steam was coming out of his ears.

“You okay to call Emily?” Ron asked. He was pretty sure that Sammy was now way past shock levels, but wanted to ask the question to check. Ron liked to think he knew Sammy well enough that if he showed signs of distress again he would notice it.

Sammy merely nodded, putting his hand in his pocket to get his phone out where he must have absently put it after he'd texted Ron.

“Good. I'll call Rothschild. I don't trust that fuck to give Ben a damn phone call, rights or not.”

Sammy felt himself smiling and couldn't, to begin with, work out how this situation in any way called for it. Then he saw his dear friend pull himself up from the ground, giving his leg one last squeeze, and pulling a phone out of his pocket with his other hand. This man who looked gruff and unapproachable but who had the biggest heart had torn up the mountain on the off chance that they had been in trouble.

“Thanks, Ron.”

“Anytime, Sammy.” Ron said, ducking out of the room.

Sammy listened to the deep rumble of his voice for a few seconds, letting it calm his nerves for a phone call that he really didn't want to make. Somehow though, knowing that he now lived somewhere where he didn't feel so alone meant the world to him. Now these people knew him properly, he felt he could achieve anything. With that knowledge he set his phone to dial a familiar number.

“Emily? I've got something to tell you...”


End file.
